


Window Seat, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-15
Updated: 2004-01-15
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Somewhere on the campaign trail. This story is for anyone whoever got stuck in the middle seat on a red eye.





	Window Seat, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**The Window Seat**

**by:** Dee 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Rating: MATURE**  
**Spoilers:** Thru Stirred  


**Notes:** Somewhere on the campaign trail. This story is for anyone whoever got stuck in the middle seat on a red eye.   


"What are you?"

"A."

Josh glanced down at his ticket. "This can't be right. I'm B."

Donna glanced over his shoulder and checked his boarding pass. "No, you're right." She pointed. "See that letter. That's a B."

"But Donna, B means the middle."

"Let's see, this plane is a 747, two rows of three across. A. B. C. Yes, Josh you are in the middle."

They stood on line waiting to board the plane, and Josh made a grab for her boarding pass, which she deftly lifted out of his reach.

"Donna, switch with me."

"No can do. They're going to check your photo id against your boarding pass. They have to match, and can I just say... you're no Donnatella Moss."

Josh huffed. "Things are simpler when we take Air Force One. Why didn't we take Air Force One?"

"Because you're not the President."

"Sometimes I forget that."

She patted his hand. "I know."

They showed their ids and passes at the gate and walked the plank to the plane. 

"How long is this flight?"

"Four hours."

"And explain to me again why we had to fly west to go east."

Donna rolled her eyes. It was almost eleven at night. She her body clock was on God only knew what time, and she really didn't have the energy or the desire to deal with Josh's whining. But since she knew he would pester her until he got the answer he already knew but insisted on asking simply because he considered airline travel to be asinine, backwards, and all things anti-Lyman, and she did want to get some sleep on this flight, she relented.

"We had to fly to Seattle in order to catch the red eye, Josh."

"Because Idaho doesn't have red eyes."

"Right."

"Maybe Seattle has red eyes because of all the coffee."

She turned and checked his expression. Uh oh. Sleep deprivation was beginning to set in. She could see it in his face. He'd been up and working for 38 hours straight, something many people couldn't do at all, but in the 39th hour, Josh went from being the Deputy Chief of Staff to Silly Boy. Actually, she usually liked to watch the transition. It was always good for a few yucks and some ammunition for later humiliation. But tonight she wasn't up for it.

"That's right, Josh," she said placating him.

They made their way on to the plane, deftly negotiating the barricade of elbows that filtered out into aisle.

"Hey, you can switch with me now."

"No, I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not giving up the window, Josh. You always make me give it up, and I'm not giving it up. I have a right to the window. Just because I'm an assistant and you're my boss doesn't necessarily entitle you to window rights. Everyone has a right to the window, Josh. Everyone!"

Josh looked at her and then checked his watch. "Oh."

"What?"

"You've just made the transformation. Donna Moss, efficient assistant has left the building, and Hysterical Girl is in her place. Hi, Hysterical Girl. It's been a while."

Donna moved her butt over the armrests and took the window seat. "I don't get hysterical."

"Yes, you do."

"Well, you go from Deputy Chief of Staff to Silly Boy."

"Do not."

"Seattle has red eyes? Please."

"I thought it was witty."

"Because you're Silly Boy."

He moved in position next to her and sat heavily, sighing as he did. He felt as if he'd been standing on one line or another for hours. He couldn't sleep on airplanes as a rule. He was always too churned up with where he was going and where he'd been. But this time, he thought he just might be able to do it.

Then Hugo, the Freak Circus Wrestler, and Josh knew this because any man over six feet four and three hundred pounds had to be a circus wrestler, sat in the aisle seat next to him and proceeded to pour his body mass over both arm rests. He smiled at Josh, nodded, and then promptly fell sound asleep. His snores shook Josh's seat.

"I can't sit here," he told Donna in a normal voice. The dead would have been easier to wake than Hugo.

"The plane is full, Josh."

He considered the sea of heads in front of him and behind and knew she was telling the truth.

"Fine, then you're going to have to lift the armrest so I can scoot over."

Donna started to lift the arm, but stopped. "I don't think we should."

"Huh? I always let you lift the armrest when you're in the middle."

"Because you always make me take the middle and part of you feels guilty."

He laughed. 

He was right. Who was she kidding?

"Look, Hysterical Girl emerged earlier tonight than usual. And now I'm in the middle and you have to lift the arm. It's only fair."

"But you'll crowd me."

"So you used to crowd me."

"That was different."

"Why?"

"I'm lighter?"

"Donna..."

Donna struggled for another reason but at eleven, or was it twelve, or was it really only nine, her brain faltered. Suddenly, lightening struck. 

"Because you have a girlfriend now."

"Huh?" 

"I'm serious, Josh. We can't do that any more."

"We can't."

"No. Lifting the armrest implies all sorts of intimacies. It means breaking down boundaries, sharing space, blending our two universes into one."

"I'm not proposing marriage, I just want to sleep on your shoulder."

"We can't do that anymore either," Donna told him.

"Why," he whined.

"It's inappropriate. If I were dating someone..."

"If?"

"Don't go there."

"Okay."

"If I were dating someone and that man was traveling with his assistant I would not want him to drape himself all over her to sleep. I would suspect something was going on."

"I used to sleep on you all the time during the first campaign. Nothing was going on then."

"Yes, but you didn't have a girlfriend then so there was no one to suspect that something might be going on. It makes a big difference. In fact there are lots of things we can't do anymore."

"Like what?"

"Like I probably shouldn't pick food from your plate anymore."

Josh laughed. "Yeah, right. Like I could have a plate of fries..."

"Fries are different."

He must be really tired, he thought, because she was more confusing than normal. "Why?"

"Fries are the universal pick food. They're open game. But say... olives. I probably shouldn't swipe the olives from your salads anymore."

"But you like them."

"Still there is an implied intimacy when I suggest that your food is my food. Before, with no girlfriend, your olives could be mine, but now those olives belong to Amy."

"But Amy doesn't like olives."

"It doesn't matter," Donna said wearily, finding herself suddenly just a little sad. 

Josh butted against the hard unforgiving armrest and scowled. He tried to close his eyes and concentrate on relaxing, but now all he could think about was what else he and Donna couldn't do anymore.

"And I shouldn't have worn your coat," she said after a minute.

He turned his head to her and took in her profile. "But you said it was warmer."

"It was. Still... It's Amy's coat now."

"No, it's my coat. Amy can get her own coat," Josh grumbled. He turned a little to his left, then his right, but he couldn't avoid touching Hugo.

Then Hugo moved in his sleep and elbowed Josh square in his chest. 

He whimpered. 

Donna opened her eyes and turned to him. He truly was miserable. "Okay. But this is the last time."

She lifted the armrest next to her and instantly Josh slid against her body. Donna rested against the window, and Josh propped a pillow against her shoulder and rested his head on it. 

She stared out into the black night and listened as his breathing evened out. No doubt her arm would ache when the flight was over. And he'd better not drool on her blazer. He denied it, but she'd spent enough nights sitting next to him on a bus with his head on her shoulder to know that he had the potential to be a drooler. 

Back then he'd definitely been hers. Now he was Amy's. And she couldn't eat his olives anymore. 

His arm wrapped around her waist and he snuggled into her, getting as comfortable as he could. The warmth from his body lulled her and the sight of the plane rising above the clouds was special as the moon lit the white puffy billows. 

She found a star in the sky and made a wish. 

Unconsciously, she wished for Josh's olives.

The End.

Sequel: The Back Seat


End file.
